We knew the mine would not last. Generations had paid the price of it, though. Men were born into it, going one after another into the dark depths of the mine. Some never came out.
The mine had taken many men, the shafts becoming their tombs. Some died young; the easy way out. Others died a slow death of defeat. Either way, the mine took their soul.
The mine is gone, now. When all was said and done, man would have nothing for all of their blood, sweat, and tears. All that was left would be a black hole and pile of rocks.
The earth was bound to reclaim itself. Soil, plants, animals, and even rocks would eventually need to go back.
The trees stood their ground around that black hole. The earth is rising back up, again. It is determined to heal itself, and all of us.
*Story by McGuffy Ann Morris
Word Count= 150
Image by Pamela S. Canepa
*There are many abandoned mines in America. I have found old mines, as sometimes they are hidden. They often quietly try to heal themselves in the background of old towns. John Prine sang of mining in his song, Paradise. After reading my story, my husband, Bill, suggested I include this song. There is also a 1974 article that tells the back story of John Prine's heartfelt song. Mining is an important part of a history, and of its people, too.
Flash Fiction of 100-150 Words